


More Than He Should Be

by Anica



Series: Hanni-verse [17]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff That Doesn't Feel Like Fluff, Just angst, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Tissue Warning, Will Knows, dealing with FEELINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:02:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anica/pseuds/Anica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I wonder how Will and Hannibal would cope if Will got pregnant again but had a miscarriage.<br/>How would they explain it to Hanni? What would Will's grieving process look like? What would Hannibal's grieving process look like?</p>
<p>From start to end, each one deals with things differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than He Should Be

**Author's Note:**

> Owe a lot to HixyStix for doing the Beta thing, helping with the flow, and putting up with my rambling while I was sick and had no clue what I was saying. 
> 
> NichePastiche, this one is for you, thanks for the prompt and trying to make me cry. Didn't work. Feel free to keep trying.

In the first month there were almost no signs. 

As they lay in bed, Hannibal pressed his face into the back of Will’s neck, hands snaking around his waist, and breathed in deeply. 

“You smell differently,” Hannibal said, half asleep, rubbing his face against his lover's soft curls. 

Will reached back and smacked Hannibal’s thigh, chuckling as he spoke, “How many times have I told you it’s not polite to smell people?”

“It is not something I can control,” Hannibal said, playfully pulling on his lover’s ear with his teeth.

“You poor thing,” Will mocked. Hannibal’s touch ceased to be gentle. 

***

It’s only in the second month that Hannibal realizes something might be wrong. They were in the kitchen, separate corners as always: Will at his table, going over papers; Hannibal cutting up meat for a seared steak. He had no sooner touched the meat to the hot skillet than Will’s head snapped up and he made a run for the sink. 

Hannibal turned off the flames and rushed to his side, ignoring the acidic smell as his hands reached for the younger man’s face. 

“Don’t,” Will said tightly, emptying out the last of his stomach’s contents. 

Hannibal turned on the cold water knowing the now pale man would appreciate it more than a glass. Will cupped his hand under the stream, catching some in his mouth. He splashed his face a few times before rising.

The good doctor ran his hands over Will’s face, neck glands, looked in his mouth and checked his eyes. 

“I want you to see your doctor tomorrow,” Hannibal said firmly. “I want them to run some blood tests.” 

“Han, don’t make this into a big deal.” 

“This is not one of those things we are going to discuss,” Hannibal said sharply. “You will go to the doctor or I will take you.” 

“Take me?” Will’s raised a brow at that. 

“That is correct.” Hannibal’s eyes narrow at him. “You know better than to try my patience when it comes to your health.” 

“Yes, Papa,” Will rolled his eyes and turned to rinse his mouth out again. 

Hannibal swatted him and sent him to go lay down until dinner was ready. Will complied, but not before snagging his papers on the way out. 

**

“Will, did you call about your test results?” Hannibal asked as he sat down amid Hanni's toy cars and planes. 

“Hm? Oh, no, I forgot,” Will said, chasing down his son’s sports car with his toy truck. 

“Do you know your reference number? I can call them,” Hannibal offered. 

“It’s late,” Will waved him off. “We can do it tomorrow.” 

“William,” Hannibal said with just a touch of edge to his voice, making Will laugh. 

“All right.” He got to his feet with a quick shake of his head. “One of these days, you’re going to have to stop treating me like a child.”

“I look forward to that day,” Hannibal told him. Though he was tempted to follow Will, he took up the toy truck and resumed the chase that Will had started. 

“Not so fast, Papa! You’ll catch me!” Hanni whined. 

“Well then, sweet boy, you’re just going have to be faster.” 

When Will didn’t return after about ten minutes, Hannibal claimed racing defeat and went to search for him. 

He found the agent sitting at the kitchen table with distant thoughtful eyes. Hannibal grabbed the phone from his hand before it could fall to the floor, making the younger man jerk back.

“Is everything all right?”

“Um, yeah, I suppose,” Will met his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

“Will,” Hannibal’s voice failed him and he stopped. He knew they had discussed it and the  
younger man didn’t want any more children. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but would support Will however he decided to proceed. 

“We’re going to have another baby,” Will looks up at him with a breathtaking smile and Hannibal could only fall to his knees and kiss his lover until they were both breathless.

“You’re going to be a papa,” Will whispered. “Again.” 

**

They didn’t tell Hanni right away. They took everything nice and slow. They had been through it before, after all.

The first time around Hannibal watched Will like a hawk, read every article on male pregnancy and child rearing. As a doctor, he had a general understanding of both but the second it had become about his child, general knowledge had not been enough. Every waking moment was spent researching as if the hospital would not release the baby to him without a written test. 

This time they laid awake in bed, talking about baby names. 

“I want Mischa no matter what it is,” Will told him. “Hannibal and Mischa.” 

“I think it should be William if it’s a boy,” Hannibal said, hand running over the still flat stomach. 

“I think the world has enough Williams,” Will snorted. “Not original at all.”

“We’ll see how grateful Hanni will be when he reaches grade school,” Hannibal grinned against Will’s shoulder. “I always loved the name William.”

“I know,” Will ran a hand up Hannibal’s naked back. “You always say my name.” 

“Do you not like it?” He tipped his head back to look up at Will. 

“I love every word that passes your lips,” Will told him, his hand reaching to cup the man’s chin, thumb running over the thin lips. 

“We can call him Liam,” Hannibal smiled, lips closing around the thumb. 

“No,” Will told him and snatched his hand away the moment the teeth got less than playful. 

**

He daydreamed of the adventures their son would have with the new child.

Will pictured a family vacation: two boys sharing a room, laughter and the sound of bedsprings carrying into the main room. They’d let them play but Daddy would have to put a stop to it at a reasonable hour. He’d open the door and both boys would fall into bed, eyes tightly shut as if Will hadn’t seen them bouncing around. He’d wait for the door to close before chuckling and resuming his spot next to his fiancé. Husband, most likely, at that point.

Will considered it might be a girl. He wanted to be surprised, but knew he wouldn’t be able to wait. He imagined a girl with long curls, rosy cheeks and Papa’s eyes. She'd want real cookies for her tea parties and when they say no because it’s almost dinner time, Hanni would be in charge of stealing them while she distracted her fathers.

Will smiled as he daydreamed. Maybe she’d be a tomboy. She’d tell Papa exactly what she thought of the dresses he got her, but the older man would not be discouraged. She’d pout at parties and having to wear lacy frilly things. She’d smile with pride when she managed to mess up her dress and rip her tights while keeping up with her brother and hiding behind Daddy so Papa won’t see. 

He thought about how protective Hanni would be, how sweet and loving. He’d ask to hold the baby, give him kisses and marvel at the little life. Will wondered if Hanni would be annoyed by his little shadow or be patient and feel honored by the attention. 

Will thought the possibilities were endless.

Will thinks how different things will be and how they’re going to be exactly the same. Hannibal refusing to use baby talk with the child, carrying on one sided conversation in his usual manner. The doctor trying not to wince as the tiny fingers explore his face and pull on his bangs. The faces he will make at the baby like he had done with Hanni when he thought no one was looking to elicit a giggle or a smile. 

**

When they told Hanni he looked thrilled but within a few days, he was asking for a bottle again, throwing tantrums and wanting to be held constantly. Will worried the sibling rivalry was already starting long before the baby was born. The moment the baby would be mentioned, Hanni would climb into their laps and stay there. Will blamed the children at school that must have had little brothers and sisters and told Hanni what to expect.

The extra attention the boy wanted was not a problem. They had never been too busy for a hug or to play. It was the tantrums that they found hard to overlook, even while knowing what drove them. Knowing this, when Hanni started to cry and threw his cup because Will brought him juice instead of milk, Hannibal took him for a drive instead of scolding him. 

They went for ice cream and took it to the park to eat, something Hannibal would usually frown upon. In the setting sun, they sat on the swings and he told his son about how much he loved being a big brother to his sister. How grownup he had felt, holding her little hand and teaching her how to walk. How special he felt when her first word was his name. 

“You won’t give the baby your name, will you, Papa?” 

“Of course not,” Hannibal lowered himself in front of the boy, knees dangerously close to the ground. “You are Hannibal Lecter, for better or for worse. That will always be our name. Something just the two of us share.”

“And we’re both big brothers!” Hanni smiled. 

** 

Hannibal didn’t really daydream about how his unborn baby will act. Didn’t concern himself whether she’ll love animals like Will or find solace in books as he does. Didn’t think if he’ll thrive in sports or prefer the drama club. 

He only thought about whether they’d smell as sweet as his son did those first few weeks. He remembered those first few nights with Hanni and smiled. It had been the most chaotic, overwhelming and peaceful moments he had felt since childhood. He wondered if the baby would have blonde curls and he found himself wishing for Will’s blue eyes. 

“I bet his first word is going to be Papa,” he says, laying a kiss over Will’s stomach, just beginning to show at four months. 

“Not a chance,” Will laughed. “It’s going to be Dada just like Hanni.”

“Dada is just an sound babies make that they repeat with encouragement. It is an unfair advantage you have being Daddy,” he playfully grumbled, and rested his cheek on Will’s chest. 

“You look more like a Papa.” Will shrugged. 

“Oh, I would not change that for the world,” Hannibal told him. He had more pride in being called Papa than Count or Doctor. 

“Just wait 'til they’re teenagers and you get called Pop,” 

“They wouldn’t dare,” Hannibal snorted, “and if you give them any ideas I will hurt you.” 

This time Will snorted, hands in his lover's hair as he laughed. He must be brave or stupid to laugh off a threat from a serial killer and Will has long given up trying to figure out which one he is. 

***  
“Don’t touch me!” Will snapped and Hannibal backed away. 

“Will, calm down!” Hannibal spoke, firm but quiet. “Lower your voice.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Will growled and reached for the closest thing at hand to fling at the taller man. 

A glass shattered against the fridge as Hannibal ducked. Will’s hands flew to cover his mouth as he gasped and sank to the floor. Hannibal was there instantaneously, arms around him as the younger man burst into tears. 

“I’m sorry,” Will tried to pull himself together. 

Hannibal held him close and kissed his hair. Will couldn’t even remember what he was angry about. Some flippant remark about his diet, probably. Will dried his tears and let Hannibal comfort him. The sooner the mood swings were over, the better. 

***

“What should we do different this time around?” Will asked one night when he was too uncomfortable to sleep. 

“Differently?” Hannibal asked, as his eyes opened and he pretended he hadn’t been sleeping. 

“Yeah, what do we want to do differently this time around?” Will explained. “Different from when we did with Hanni.”

“Why would we want to do anything different?” 

“I’m not saying we did anything wrong,” Will rambled into the dark. “But there has to be something we learned. Like I won’t say ‘no’ as much so we don’t have a repeat of the months  
when that was all Hanni would say over and over.” 

“What word will you use instead?” Hannibal asked, ignoring the pull of sleep, pulling the younger man closer to him, and resting his face against the curls.

“Nein?” Will chuckled. “I don’t remember what the baby book said. What do you think we should teach her? Or him?” 

“To knock.” 

“Oh, that’s a good one!” 

They can do it all differently but they don’t have to. Hanni is a kind, happy and loving, and Will didn’t think it could have had much to do with the two damaged man.

 

***

One moment he was in his classroom, cramps making him take it easy and forcing him to sit down, the next Will is waking up in the hospital. Hannibal was by his side before he could do more than turn his head. He didn’t have to say anything to Will. There’s an emptiness in the maroon eyes he hadn’t seen in years. 

“I’m sorry,” Will whispered, tears spilling out, positive that it must have been something he did. His job, his broken mind, his fault. 

“This was not your fault,” Hannibal said, cupping his face and forcing eye contact. He needed Will to believe him. Knew the younger man will destroy himself if he thought this was his fault or worse, if he thought Hannibal blamed him. Neither were true. “These things happen, Will. There was a problem with the chromosomes. It usually happens in the first trimester but-” 

“Stop,” Will shook his head and turned away. “Just stop.”

“Tell me what to do,” Hannibal said. He knew how to do grand romantic gestures and how to cheer up a sulking child, but mourning was something he had experienced only once. 

“Just hold me,” Will said quietly and continued to move to the other side of the bed. 

Hannibal didn’t hesitate to climb into the hospital bed. The nurses didn’t say anything, just averted their eyes and bit their lips, resisting the urge to offer words of comfort. 

***

“What do you mean the baby died?” Hanni asked as they all sat together. 

“It’s no longer with us,” Hannibal explained. “The baby passed away.” 

“But where did it go?” Hanni asked, horrified. 

“A lot of different people have a lot of different ideas about where we go once we pass away,” he told him, squeezing the small hand, trying to give him age appropriate information. 

“Am I going to pass away?” 

“We all do, but not for a very very long time,” Hannibal reassured him. 

“But why did the baby die?” 

“The baby was sick,” Will managed softly, eyes as red and raw as they had been since he woke up  
in the hospital a day ago. “She wasn’t strong enough.” 

“Are you and papa going to die?” Hanni asked, on the verge of tears. 

“Yes, my sweet boy, one day we will die too, but not today and not anytime soon,” Hannibal told him with the certainty that only a Papa can. 

“Because you’re strong?” Hanni asked.

“Because we’re strong,” Hannibal confirmed and gathered the boy in his arms. He buried the boy’s head against his chest so he wouldn’t see Will’s silent tears. 

***

Hanni climbed into his fathers’ bed so he could watch them breath. He wanted to make sure they were still alive. They didn’t say a word, just raised the blanket so the boy could climb underneath it. 

He snuggled in but didn’t close his eyes. He stayed awake as long as he could, eyes fixed first on his papa’s chest and then his daddy’s, making sure both would rise and fall as they are supposed to. 

He did it again night after night. Climbed into their bed and watched them breathe until he could no longer stay awake. Hanni wasn’t sure what he would do if one of them stopped breathing, wasn’t really capable to think that far ahead, but he knew that as long as they kept breathing, he felt safe.

They reassured him as best they could but neither had the heart to make him stop sneaking into their bed.

***

Hannibal found Will crying in the shower and jumped in: three piece suit, Italian loafers, and firm arms that surround the younger man. 

“I keep forgetting,” Will cried into the fine material as they both sank to the floor. “I keep thinking it will still happen and then … I feel so empty. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not empty,” Hannibal spoke into his hair. “And you’re not alone and this isn’t your fault.” 

“I want it back,” was a soft whimper that almost escaped him. 

Will cried until he had nothing left and then just let himself be held. The water turned cold and all Hannibal did was slip off his jacket and cover the younger man as best he could. He was willing to stay for as long as Will needed him. 

***

“Papa?” Hanni found the man alone in his office, hours past bedtime. 

“Yes?” he asked, realizing he had been too caught up in his thoughts to hear the boy enter. 

Hanni climbed onto his papa’s lap and rested his head against the familiar textures, taking comfort from it. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asked gently, wrapping a protective and loving arm around the small shoulders. 

Hanni was silent and when he finally spoke, it was just barely a whisper. “Did the baby go away because of me?” 

“Of course not,” Hannibal stated firmly and tried to lift the boy to the desk so he could make direct eye contact. Hanni squirmed and clung to the older man until his papa gave up and let him remain in place. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because I didn’t want the baby,” Hanni mumbled, tearfully. “It was only at first but I wished the baby would go way and it did.” 

“Sweet boy, that is not a power you possess. You did not cause this,” Hannibal said firmly. “This is in no way your fault.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I’m Papa, am I not?”

“Yes, you are,” the boy breathed a sigh of relief against the man’s chest. 

Hannibal waited for the boy to fall asleep before putting him back to bed. That night, he didn’t crawl in bed with them. The next night Will reached into the empty space between them, took Hannibal’s hand and slowly worked his way back into Hannibal’s arms. 

Not having their son in bed with them was a bit bittersweet. They missed the solid reassuring presence of their precious boy but found joy in the child’s strength. 

His absence left room for them to reconnect. 

*** 

Hannibal sat in his backyard, watching the sky, sipping slowly from a glass of wine that was not his first. 

Will and Hanni had both felt they were to blame for something that science could explain and he had done his best to comfort them. 

He was sorry of course. He was sorry that the pain he felt did not go as deeply as theirs. He had not held the child in his arms. He had not counted fingers and toes. Didn’t feel those little digits close around his finger and hold on, reflexes and the need to connect. 

He did feel a loss. Something that was a part of him would never get to delight in the beautiful things in the world and would never be able to add to them. He felt the loss, but not Will’s emptiness. At least not on the same level and not the raw pain he would feel if he lost either of the family he already had. 

Before Hanni was born he fell in love with the idea of a son but it had not compared to the moment he saw the boy in Will’s arms. He never had established that connection with the child he lost and his limited array of emotions was having a hard time pinning down exactly what he felt. 

He knew he felt love for the man that had proven himself strong with every twist life handed him. He knew he felt love for the boy that will never have urges like his. He knew he felt love for the life that never was but could have been and that will never change. He knew it might not be the kind of love he could have offered if he was not so damaged but it’s all he has. 

Hannibal thought that as long as he could feel love, even if it is his version, then maybe it’s okay that he didn’t feel pain in quite the same way. It left him free to comfort the ones he loves. 

“Hey,” Will said, coming out into the backyard in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. “Are you coming to bed?” 

Hannibal watched him, bathed in the porch lights, curls rumpled, beard needing a trim and glasses just slightly askew. He found the sight breathtaking and that thought, mixed with the alcohol, made him smile. 

“Hannibal?” 

The doctor licked his lips, loving the sound of his name from those lips, and got up from the chaise lounge. 

“Do you know that I love you?” he said, the side of his thumb coming up to brush a bearded cheek. 

“I know,” Will smiled, hand covering the one on his cheek. “Are you all right?”

“More than I should be,” Hannibal admitted.

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Will said, wrapping his arms around the older man.

There was something wrong with that but it didn’t matter. Will thought that Hannibal had more than his fair share of suffering in life and he understood, even if he sometimes forgot, that the doctor did not feel things as others did. It didn’t change the fact that he had been there and would remain someone that Will could always turn to.

Will knew he needed more time, but having Hannibal close by, offering himself so completely, brought an ease to the younger man and helped him drift off to sleep. His dreams were peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> Made it till the end? Awesome! Tell me all about your feelings. This is your hour.


End file.
